


Come to Class

by chromochaotic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, JeanMarco Week, M/M, Smut, Teacher!kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chromochaotic/pseuds/chromochaotic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Kirschtein is the last-minute substitute for Marco's biology class, and our freckled, angelic Class Representative helps his teacher out with a bit more than taking roll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come to Class

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha see what I did with the title there?

“Slipped and fell in the bathroom, you said? How dreadful!”

Marco glanced up from making vague, looping doodles in his composition notebook. On this fine Monday morning, the school's counselor and the head of the science department stood in the doorway to the senior class's biology lab.

They seemed to wrap up their tense little discussion, before Dr. Zoe, the department head, turned and addressed the room. “Excuse me, students! Due to debilitating injury, your regular teacher, Mr. Levi, will not be able to make it to class today. We've only just been made aware of this circumstance, but we can assure you that a substitute will be found shortly, and class will continue as scheduled.”

Despite the prospect of such regulation, students across the room let out celebratory “woop!”s and cheers at the idea of having a substitute. It always meant things would be a little more laid-back compared to the totalitarian regime Mr. Levi ran.

As promised, 20 minutes later a young man (seriously, very young; Marco wondered if he was even out of college, let alone certified to be in charge of a classroom) entered, thin briefcase slung over his shoulder.

“Morning, everyone,” he greeted. Marco tried to ignore the pleasant timbre of his voice, because young or not, this man was his teacher. “My name is Jean Kirschtein, going by Mr. Kirschtein in here, and I'm going to lead class today. Well, for the rest of the week, from what I hear.” Mr. Kirschtein shifted his pair of thin, angular glasses up his nose as he surveyed the room. “Now, based on the lesson plans faxed to me, I understand that you all are working up to having a dissection on Friday. Before we get to that, guess I'll take attendance?”

Mr. Kirschtein set his briefcase down on the desk at the front of the room, but before he could pull any papers out Marco shot his hand up. The teacher raised an eyebrow at him, then nodded his head while asking, “Hey, sorry, but since I haven't even looked at the roll yet, could you tell me your name with your question?”

Marco lowered his hand, smiling as he replied, “Yes Sir, of course. I'm Marco Bodt, and I was wondering if I could request to take roll today? I'm class rep and that kind of falls under stuff I do.”

The substitute seemed to consider it for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. “Go for it.”

With a placating expression, Marco walked up to the front of the classroom, picking up a clipboard from the teacher's desk. As he grabbed for the printout of the class roll, though, he leaned a bit closer to where Mr. Kirschtein was still unpacking his briefcase. “Excuse me, sir,” he murmured quietly, “please make sure to listen to the pronunciation of the names, since both Reiner Braun and Annie Leonhardt will give you trouble if you mess up on 'Bertholdt Fubar' during class.”

The substitute's eyes flicked over to Marco, before he flashed a quick grin. “Hey, thanks,” he breathed.

Marco couldn't help but smile back, hoping he didn't blush.

Exchanges like this happened a few more times throughout the week: on Tuesday, Marco tipped Mr. Kirschtein off on whom to assign as Ymir's lab partner for the dissection, to ensure she didn't cause a small tornado in the classroom; on Wednesday, he subtly conveyed to Mr. Kirschtein how important it was _not_ to force Eren to participate in Friday's activity if he didn't want school counseling on his ass. Each time, Mr. Kirschtein rewarded him with a conspiratorial grin, and Marco returned it with a sunny, head-of-the-class smile.

He felt good about assisting Mr. Kirschtein, really. Although he was vulnerable to all the weaknesses of a substitute who just didn't know the class as well, he was otherwise a very competent teacher. Marco got the sense that, for one reason or another, he truly understood his students, and this comprehension of their thought processes helped him communicate his lessons very clearly.

Plus, he was... very attractive. Marco had adamantly tried to ignore it, but everything about this man made Marco just want to sit and listen to his voice, to be alone with him, to... to do whatever Mr. Kirschtein wanted of him. It was stupid, just some schoolboy fantasy. Marco kept trying to get it out of his head.

It was all in his head, right? It wasn't like, that Thursday, he had caught Mr. Kirschtein staring rather... heatedly... at his lips.

Right?

* * *

 

Jean sighed. Four days down, one to go. Though, honestly, he'd be a bit disappointed when this gig was over. Trost Academy paid way more for his temp work than any teaching assistant position he'd had over at the university.

_All good things must come to an end_ , he thought with a wry grin. Leaning back in the cushy chair behind his temporary desk, Jean relaxed as the last sounds of students faded from the hallway outside the classroom. Everyone had gone home, then, it seemed. Jean loosened his tie, kicked his feet up on his desk, and thought about how tomorrow would be his last day at the private school.

_It's been an unexpectedly smooth run. Thought all these private school kids would be brats_. Jean had been very pleasantly surprised to find out just how cooperative everyone had been. Of course, half of that was due to the efforts of the class representative, that _fantastic_ Marco Bodt kid. Seriously, Jean had no idea how he would have managed without Bodt helping to run the show, with his negotiating skills and his placating smile and his _sweet ass—_

_Nope. Nope, Jean, too far buddy._ Jean scowled, frustrated by how sometimes he just couldn't get that student out of his head. Jean had been pretty good about keeping things completely professional during class— _well, there was that slip-up today. Damn it, Jean, keep it in your pants—_ but something about the freckled, A+ little angel had Jean way more excited at the end of the day than he had any right to be.

Still frustrated, with the image of a pleased smile surrounded by happy, pink lips shimmering in his head, Jean looked over at the closed door of the classroom. And he got an idea.

Rubbing one off in here couldn't really hurt, right? It was kind of exciting, really. In a place where he worked and was supposed to be on the job, going for it just sounded like both a terrible and fantastic thought. And he couldn't get those fucking lips out of his head, anyway.

So there Jean was, a couple minutes later, feet spread beneath the desk, one hand raised up behind his head while the other squeezed against his dick. He panted a little, closing his eyes, biting his lip gently to breathe through his nose and—

“Excuse me, Mr. Kirschtein, I forgot my lab book in here and just wanted to—to. To uh.”

_Fffffffffffuck_. Jean's eyes shot up. In the doorway, poised with a backpack slung over one arm and the other reaching toward his usual seat, was Marco freaking Bodt. His brown eyes were wide, lips parted as he gazed at Jean's unzipped fly and his shoved-down boxers and his _hand_ on his _dick_ and _fuck fuck fuck_.

“I, I uh,” Marco squeaked, face gradually growing impossibly hot. His eyes, at once, snapped up to Jean's face, and the substitute was on the verge of recovering from his utter shock when Marco bowled him over, metaphorically, again: “I also just wanted to check if, ah, you wanted any help. Getting ready for tomorrow. Or, you know, just, any. Help.” He licked his lips. Stood his ground.

Jean raised his eyebrows at him.

Marco, with a tiny, ballsy little smile on his face, closed the classroom door. He turned to face Jean again. After a short pause, he murmured, softly, head tilted just right so that he was gazing at Jean through slightly lowered, long eyelashes, “...Sir?”

Jean's pupils blew.

“Right. Right, get over here. Marco, I want you to sit on this desk and take off your shirt.”

Marco blinked and acquiesced, an excited flush on his freckled cheeks as he sat facing Jean on the desk and lifted the mandated, uniform polo over his head.

Jean took a moment to drink in the sight; a lean, toned torso was presented before him, tan skin stretched over the lightly panting chest of his freckled angel. Jean ran his hands over Marco's warm, muscled arms, leaning forward to purr in his ear, “Are you ready to do whatever I ask, Marco?”

The boy gasped in a quick inhale, then breathed out, “Y-yes. Yes, Sir.”

Jean leered. “What a good student.” With that, he brought his mouth away from Marco's ear to kiss him deeply, tongue sliding slowly, _possessively_ , across one full bottom lip before slipping inside.

Marco breathed shakily into the kiss, then regrouped, moving his lips carefully against his teacher's and feeling the other's warm, slick tongue slip lazily around his mouth. He let out another gasp as Jean tugged him closer, arms wrapped tight around his bare waist.

Jean grinned into the kiss and moved one hand up the smooth skin of Marco's spine, eliciting a nice shiver from his student. Pulling back just slightly, Jean asked, “You know how far you want to go, Marco?”

Marco worried his already wet, flushing lip, before answering. His dark eyes, contrasting nicely with the warm glow of his cheeks, gazed shyly at Jean as he offered, “As far as you want to take it, Sir.”

“Right answer,” Jean whispered, diving back into the kiss. He pressed forward until Marco was arched back against the desk, loving the little sounds he was beginning to hear from the boy below him. They continued to kiss, slow and deep, until Marco let out a soft whine and shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. Jean lifted himself away, their lips parting with a _smack_. He gazed questioningly down at the flushed boy.

“U-uh, um, Sir, could we move so that we're not, uh, like this? My, my back is starting to hurt from, uh...”

Jean's gaze sobered at the barely strained tone of Marco's voice. He chuckled, voice rather raspy, and answered, “Yes, yeah, of course. Here, let me...”

Jean maneuvered them both, shoving things to the side or straight up off the desk, until he and Marco lied lengthwise across it. It was a tight fit, but both of them could now at least rest their legs on the wooden surface. Before Jean picked up where they left off—and _hell_ did he want to pick up, because Marco was sending him that warm, shy gaze again and panting softly, hands laying uncurled up by his head, all open and sweet and _inviting—_ he wanted to move things along a bit. “Say, Marco,” he started, planting his arms on either side of that adorable face. “True or false: you would look amazing without pants or boxers right now.”

Marco's eyes widened, before crinkling with quiet laughter. His heart hammered in his chest as he wiped at the sweat on his forehead, answering, “Uh, true? I guess? Oh my god...”

Jean leaned back again, tone no longer playful. “Then take them off. Now.”

Marco's breath stuttered, before he panted out, “Y-yes _Sir_.”

It took some awkward squirming, as Jean wouldn't move much out of the way to allow Marco to get the articles of clothing off, but eventually Marco did manage to wriggle out of his khaki pants and forest green boxers. In that moment, he couldn't meet Jean's eyes, apparently shy now that the teacher could see his arousal so plainly. Jean thought it was a nonsensical urge, since everything about Marco was _divine_. He dipped his head down to Marco's chest, murmuring, “Marco, you are so _gorgeous_ like this...” before laving his tongue across Marco's nipple.

“A-Ah!” Marco let out the best, most keening gasp yet. “Sir, p-please, I need...”

Jean continued to mouth leisurely at the nipple, pressing it between his leering lips. His hand came up to let one thumb brush over the other nipple, earning increasingly stuttering moans from the boy under assault.

Marco's fingers grasped tensely at the edge of the desk. Before long, his hips started to twitch up toward Jean's, which were still suspended by the way Jean elected to brace himself on his knees above the other. Jean noticed the motion, though, and pulled away from Marco's chest with one last, smug little nibble. “Do you have a question, Marco?” Then, teasingly, before Marco could reply, Jean slid one hand down to circle around Marco's cock.

Marco let out a shuddering gasp. “P-please, Sir,” his hips rolled up into the waiting grasp, “please touch me more, Sir!”

Jean grinned ferally, eyelids lowered in an expression of lazy contentment. He moved his hand slowly, loosely around Marco's dick as he answered. “Hmm, you know, Marco, I've got a bit of a problem too. Think you can be a good assistant for me, real quick?”

Marco nodded and worried at his swollen lip, unable to speak due to Jean's languid movements.

“Good,” Jean said lowly. He removed his hand, proceeding to guide both their bodies around the desk again until he lied beneath Marco, the other boy's legs spread across his hips. Jean let both hands slide up, across Marco's hips, to dig lightly into Marco's nice, round ass. “I think you can handle it from here,” he whispered by Marco's ear, before taking the boy's lobe in his mouth.

Marco moaned and let his hips stutter downward, rubbing his cock perfectly against Jean's. It made both of them reel, heads falling back, before Jean moved one hand to the back of Marco's head and guided them into a breathy kiss. Their hips rolled together, slicking each other up as precome leaked out, and Jean felt his fingers spasm in Marco's short hair and on his ass.

Marco whined, his sensitive skin catching on Jean's still mostly-clothed body, and for a moment he just gasped and thought about how he was poised, sweaty, naked, and rutting, above his still generally unexposed teacher. He keened and pressed impossibly harder against Jean in his excitement.

Jean hissed as they ground together. It felt so good, this hot and warm and wet body moving sinuously against his; every nerve was sparking with a happy, molten fire. His eyes gazed down at where their cocks slid together, and he felt his mouth water at the way Marco's thighs trembled from his almost frantic efforts. This boy was so amazing, so willing and open to him and beautiful, and a voice very far in the back of his mind vowed that this _had_ to happen again.

Bringing his gaze back up, his thoughts back to the present, he moved both hands up to cup Marco's face. Jean led him into another sloppy, lavish kiss, before murmuring, “Y-You've been a very good student, Marco. Are you ready to finish?”

Marco, eyes squeezed shut, let out a high-pitched “mmhmm,” still rolling his hips ceaselessly.

Jean brushed his thumb along Marco's cheek, eyes heavy with desire. “Come for me, Marco.”

In a crying gasp, “Yes, Sir!” tumbled from Marco's shining lips. A few more jerks of his hips saw the boy with his head in the crook of Jean's neck, spilling out across their bodies.

Jean's eyes rolled back for a moment, reveling in the shuddering body above his. When Marco pressed a tiny, careful kiss against the clammy skin of his neck, he absolutely lost it; clutching Marco's ass tight against him, he ground up and came between their stomachs.

They both lied there, warm and panting, for what felt like hours afterward. Then, finally, Marco carefully lifted himself off of Jean, grimacing at the sticky resistance to his movement.

The two gazed at each other. The mood should have been tense, now, maybe even awkward and a little wrong, but what had just transpired had been so exactly what they _wanted_ that they could only think back on it and smile like fools.

Jean laughed softly and tugged Marco back to curl carefully on his chest, deciding to deal with the clean up a bit later. He ran a hand happily through Marco's still slightly damp hair.

Marco, smiling and nuzzling into the touch, finally sent a sunny grin up to Jean.

Jean stared back down at him quizzically. “What?”

Marco shook his head, laughing quietly.“See you in class tomorrow... Sir.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a fill for the kink meme prompt: "I want to see something where Jean's a teacher (a substitute? something a little more laid back?) and Marco's one of the top students who's really clever and helpful and he has a giant ass crush of Mr. Kirschtein... I'd like to read a sex scene between these two with Marco just saying 'Sir' or whatever formality there's supposed to be and Jean's super turned on by this..." I'm not sure I got all of those points exactly, but hopefully when I get around to actually posting this to the meme the OP will like it.
> 
> And, even though I'm late, I meant for it to be today's submission for JeanMarco Week's High School AU prompt. Ah, I love the holidays. Also, I'll be... rereading... to look for errors and fix them when it's not 2 AM.
> 
> So... favorite part?
> 
> (Also in the comments I added some headcanons if anyone's interested...)


End file.
